


Five Wartime Kindnesses

by Measured_Words



Category: Diablotin
Genre: Acts of Kindness, Care packages, Drabble Sequence, Epistolary Elements, Gen, Kindness, Magic, Nurses & Nursing, Oranges, Second Psyrene War, War, references to amputation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 04:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12697134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured_Words/pseuds/Measured_Words
Summary: Five drabbles, five acts of kindness from the Second Psyrene War.





	Five Wartime Kindnesses

"Just a quick note, my dearest Korisse. We have spent the last week manning the trenches we dug into the ground, which gives us some protection from their artillery. I wonder what your father would think to see his guns at play, with us holed up in the ground like rats in a warren.

I have made some friends after the rain yesterday, with the simplest of spells to dry out wet boots and socks after standing our watches in the cold mud. It is nice to help lift spirits so easily. I hope we will all be home soon."

  


* * *

  


Georges smiled as he opened the package to a whiff of machine oil and cigarette smoke. Inside was a standard assortment of little luxuries for family serving at the front: coffee, candy, cigarettes, tinned food, soap and a fresh razor, handknit gloves he suspected were Rosalie's work, and a little bundle with some green and black thread, needles, and a small pair of scissors - just what he needed to fix up some fresh tears in his jacket. The true prize lay at the bottom: letters from home, including a few pages from his sister, and updates on Alain and Serge-Yves.

  


* * *

  


Lt. Colonel Arguelles had transformed Hasret's father's library into the picture of a military headquarters, with maps and flags and uniformed personnel coming and going in a constant stream. He stood and bowed when she entered, to ask for her help. 

"There are two hundred troops enroute here who have spent the last five weeks at the front. They are tired, they have wounded, and they are being harried on their march by Psyrene guerillas."

"My people will see them here safely," she declared.

He nodded, relieved. "You have the gratitude of the Imperial Army, mademoiselle." He smiled. "And of myself."

  


* * *

  


Janelle was finishing her rounds - changing dressings, dispensing medicine and checking patient comfort. Sometimes there wasn't much the nurses could do. Not all the injuries they saw could be healed with magic; time and care would have to do the work. 

She heard someone groaning in distress, and walked up the long row of beds separated by thin curtains until she found the source – Corporal Lazar Dion, whose legs had been amputated above the knee. 

"Please," he cried softly. He was already on his full dose of morphine. Able to offer nothing else, Janelle sat and held his hand.

  


* * *

  


The mood among the blackbloods was sour. Their two-week patrol had seen a little action, but mostly it had been quiet, and wet, and dull. They'd been looking forward to a decent meal at the mess, but apparently provisions were low at the outpost.

They were grumbling over their watery salt-beef "stew" when B'razvi slid into place beside Irrez, and rolled a brightly coloured fruit towards him.

Irrez split the rind with his thumbnail, and peeled it back to reveal the sweet-smelling flesh. "An orange," he said. "Edible."

B'razvi smiled and rolled out fruits to the rest of the table.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fourth year I've managed to post a little something for Remembrance day :3


End file.
